Karma
by Invited-Gatecrasher
Summary: A chance meeting between Sodapop and Angela a few years after the book, just before he is sent to Vietnam.  Rated T for a few swear words.  One-shot.


It was a bitterly cold afternoon when Angel hurried through the door of the DX, shuffling quickly as though she was trying to outrun the icy breeze.

She wandered the isles with her hands dragging along the shelves, fingers sliding across tins, bottles and tubs. If she were anywhere else her behaviour would have be misconstrued as casing the joint and a security guard would have followed her with the subtlety of a bull in the White House. But she was in the DX; it was greaser territory and no one would give her a second glance.

She picked up a Pepsi and a candy bar and walked to the counter.

"Alright, Angel?" Sodapop asked politely as he looked up from his magazine. He was sat on a stool leaning with his elbows on the counter.

"Hi, Sodapop. How's you?" Angel replied sweetly. She didn't know Soda too well, but she knew he was one of the good guys; most the girls in Tulsa were wild for him.

"I'm so bored!" he groaned dramatically. "This cold weather! Everyone's at home by their fires, no one needs gas, no one needs their oil changed… So here I sit, alone and bored."

He was joking, and Angel was starting to see why girls were so sweet on him. She could also see the resemblance to Ponyboy, and it made her feel fuzzy inside.

Sodapop looked out the window to see the empty foreground. "No car?" he noted.

"Naw, I've been at the mall. I called Tim to have him pick me up, but he said he wasn't driving on the ice. He asked me to pick up one of those ice-scraper-what's-its. You know, for a windscreen?"

Soda jumped up, straightened his back and put on a fake snooty demeanour. With a French accent he joked, "Aah, Mademoiselle, I _svink _you mean ze ice-scraper-_thingy_," he said as he turned to the back wall and pulled one from the shelves.

Angela giggled, "Cabin fever?"

"The very same," he grinned, slouching back to his usual self as he bagged up her items. "That's $3.10."

Angel took her gloves off and dug out two scrunched up dollar bills and a heap of loose change.

"Glory, your fingers are blue even with gloves on!" Soda stated, looking at her hands.

Holding up her gloves to indicate the wholes in most the fingertips she moaned, "Yeah, I've had these since I was about 12, all they're good for now is trapping cold air if you ask me."

"Well you stay warm now," he said with sincerity as he handed her a nickel in change.

"Thanks. See you around, Soda."

Angel turned to leave and had got halfway to the door before Soda called her back.

"Hey, Angela. I finish in about 20 minutes, I could give you a ride home if you don't mind waiting a bit."

She turned and smiled at his offer. He really was a gentleman; it was a refreshing change. "Aw, no that's ok. I'm out of your way, and you shouldn't be on the road more than you have to; it is dangerous out."

"No honestly, it's no bother. I'd hate to think of you walking home over the ice."

"You sure?"

Soda nodded simply and indicated to the seat he had just vacated. "You sit here, I'll shut up shop then we can head off."

Angel walked behind the counter and hopped onto the stool, her long black hair tumbling into her lap. She sat fiddling with the whole in one of her glove's fingers, not sure what she could talk about to fill the silence.

The golden-haired man started pottering around the shop, turning off lights and putting covers over some of the shelves. He didn't seem concerned by the lack of conversation, but it bothered Angela something awful.

"I, er… I heard you got drafted," she said, and then immediately wished she could kick herself. Of all the thing to talk about!

Sodapop's eyes flashed up to meet hers, and for less than a second they displayed a look of pure terror. If Angel was better at reading people, she'd have picked up on the look, but she just couldn't tell that much from a person's face.

"Yeah… Yeah you heard right," his voice gave nothing away.

"When do you leave?" She asked nervously.

"Uh… I got a month or so. 'Til training that is, I dunno when I'll actually be sent to 'Nam."

She didn't know why she was pushing the subject, she couldn't help herself, so she continued, "You scared?"

Soda walked towards Angel and hopped onto the counter, "Erm, yeah. Scared witless truth be told."

Angela gave him a sad smile, "Well, no one can blame you for that. Maybe you'll be based with Steve Randle? That'd be cool."

"That'd be tuff enough," Soda smiled as he looked out the window. "It'd be real nice to see him."

"You ever hear from him?"

"Uh-huh, we get all his calls. You know, you're only allowed one call every few weeks when you're out there, there's a schedule they follow… It's always us he calls." There was a hint of pride in his voice; he was honoured his best friend chose to call him every time he got to speak to someone back home.

"That's nice," Angel said, feeling uncomfortable looking Sodapop Curtis in the eye, so she went back to fiddling with her glove.

Maybe it's because she didn't know him well, maybe it was because she was the first person to be so direct with him since his letter had arrived, but for some reason Soda wanted to talk to Angela about Vietnam, he wanted to speak about how he felt.

"It's not even me I'm worried about, really," he said glumly as he gazed out the window. "I'll be there, you know? I'll know what it's like. It's the not knowing that gets you. That's what bothers me with Steve being out there; you dunno where they are or what they're doing. If they're hurt… Or if they're dead… It's the people left behind that suffer most."

"You reckon?" Angel asked, feeling completely out of her depth. She didn't know anyone shipped to Vietnam, not anyone close to her at any rate. She could only empathise, but she knew empathy was no where near strong enough to understand a person in Soda's situation.

"Totally. I'm more worried for Darry and Ponyboy than I am for myself, truly."

"How are they taking it?" she queried, her mind racing to the boy she'd had a crush on since she was 13. It had been almost five years, but she still had a soft spot for him, even though he'd made his feelings towards her perfectly clear.

"They just pretend everything will be fine. I s'pose it has to be."

"Are you worried they'll get drafted?" Angela asked, again wanting to take it back as soon as it had left her mouth.

"Naw, Darry's a sole guardian so they won't take him, and next year when Pone's 18 they'll be younger kids they'll pick over Darry; he'll be safe. And Pony is off to college, they don't touch college kids."

He was right; the east side had become less populated at a much greater rate than the west side - the army took greasers before they took socs. Greasers' blood was worth less than socs', they'd always known that.

Angel seized the chance to change the line of conversation even if it meant changing it to a topic that could embarrass her. It would be difficult to talk about Ponyboy without coming across as a clingy love-sick puppy, but it was a chance she had to take. "So he's really going to college, huh?"

Immediately, Soda's entire body changed. He sat straighter, his smile returned and his eyes came to life with undeniable pride and adoration for his little brother. "Yeaaaah!" he cooed happily, "We're off to visit one next weekend with him. It's not one he'll pick, it's just to compare it to make sure he's making the right choice about New York."

"New York?"

"Yeah, that's where he's got his heart set on, Darry too."

"And you?"

"Well I won't be here, so it makes no difference to me which state he's in. It's Darry that'll be alone." he said miserably.

Angel reached over and placed her hand on top of Soda's, squeezing reassuringly. "He'll be alright, he's got your whole gang."

"The whole gang?" he laughed bitterly. "The whole gang… With me and Pony gone… The whole gang is him and Two-Bit. Just him and a drunk!"

He moved his hand upwards to grab his hair, and hers fell to the counter with a thud. He took deep breaths and closed him eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"No, I'm sorry. You don't need my shit," he smiled at her apologetically.

"I guess I hadn't noticed your group had got so small," she said honestly. "You know, I still think of Dallas as alive. And I still think of Johnny Cade as his quiet shadow, the pair of them wandering the streets in the middle of the night," she chuckled, remembering the two boys who died three years previously.

Sodapop laughed too, remembering his band of brothers. "We've not been those people for a while now," he said ruefully. "A lot has happened in such a small amount of time."

"Mmm," Angel said, unsure of what she could say to make him feel any better. She wished she had just walked home now.

"You know what? Let's change the subject!" Soda said, jumping off the counter with a spring in his step. "I didn't mean to bum you out."

"Naw, I think it's me that brought you down."

"Let's get out of here," the greaser chirped as he switched off the lights and grabbed his jacket from a hook by the door.

Angela followed Soda to the car and slinked into the passenger seat. A few minutes of silence ensued as Soda turned on the ignition and waited for the ice on his car to melt enough to pull out of the DX.

"Well, I think you're up to speed with everything in _my_ life," Soda said in a friendly voice as his drove slowly across the icy roads. "What's new in the world of Shepard?"

"You're forgetting, I'm not a Shepard anymore," Angela spat as she wriggled her left hand in front of her face, highlighting her cheap wedding ring.

"Oh yeah… Angela Franklin," Soda recited as he remembered her married name. "How's that working for ya?"

Angel snorted with sarcasm, "Marital bliss… I'm back living with Tim, actually."

"Well, that's lucky," Soda said in an upbeat manner, "As I wouldn't know where you lived otherwise and it's your brother's house I'm headed to."

The small girl laughed, she liked how Soda could make everything seem ok; he made her failed marriage seem like it wasn't the end of the world.

"How is Tim anyways? I haven't seen him in a while."

"He's busy. Did you hear Curly got sent down for nine years?" she asked sadly. "Tim's kinda throwing himself into work to not think about it, which is ironic because the work he does will land him in a cell next to Curly."

"That's rough," Soda responded, "it must be hard on you too."

Angela's bitterness towards her brother and their gang shot out of her with poisonous venom, "The idiot got what was coming to him, karma's catching up with all of them."

They drove into Angel's street and Soda pulled up outside her house.

"You believe it that? Karma, I mean," he said as he turned to face her.

Angel was silent for a short time before answering, "Not in some big spiritual way, but I think if you shit on enough people they'll shit on you too at some point."

"Be careful who you cross on the way up, because you'll meet them on the way down," Sodapop agreed.

Angel shook her head, her hair swaying around her face. She was trying to shake the bad thoughts from her head. "Which is something you've got going for you…"

"What is?" Soda asked curiously.

"Good karma. You're a nice guy, and you always have been. You'll be ok."

Soda grinned at Angela, visibly comforted by her prediction. "Thanks, Angela. You savvy real good."

"Thanks for the ride home… And, and… Good luck in Vietnam, Sodapop," Angel said heartily as she turned and opened the car door, cold air rushing in to greet them.

"Hey Angel?" Soda said, making the young woman turn to look at him.

"Yeah?"

"I could knock my brother's head against a wall for never taking you on a date," he smiled cheekily.

"You do that," she giggled, her playful instinct taking over any thoughts that flirting with her crush's brother might be weird. "And then when you get back from the war, maybe you could take me out and show him what a mistake he made."

"It's a date."

Angel leaned back into the car and kissed Soda on the cheek. "See you then."

She shut the door and automatically hugged her coat around herself in a battle against the chill, but she didn't feel cold. Angela felt giddy and warm; she finally understood why so many girls across Tulsa had a thing for Sodapop Curtis. For so many years, she went for the wrong brother.

That night, Angela dreamt of Sodapop. And the night after that. And the night after that.

Angela thought of Soda from time to time, she'd prayed for him too. She wondered how different her life would have been if she had dated a sweet guy like Sodapop instead of fooling around with hoods and marrying one because she thought she was pregnant. She didn't know if they ever would go on a date when he got back, but she liked to think about it.

One day Angela overheard some girls talking as she cleaned tables in a diner; Sodapop died at war. Her breath caught in her throat, her head feeling light and dizzy.

That night a single tear fell onto Angela's pillow; she wasn't sure if she was supposed to grieve for a man she didn't really know, a man who she'd flirted with after years of flirting with his brother. She thought about the Curtis brothers and compared them to all the guys she'd ever dated or slept with. She decided she never was and never would be good enough for a Curtis boy. As she drifted off to sleep she had one thought circulating in her mind: karma.


End file.
